ARA
by Goatofdoom
Summary: Sherlock gets competition in a case. A fanatic animal rights organization threates to detonise numerous bombs all over the country , unless the government agrees to close down Huntington Life Science. Sherlock and John have to race against time and save the lives of hundreds of civilians. But this time they have some more company...
1. Chapter 1

**Nope, Sherlock is not mine. But isn't that a little obvious? I don't know why I'm even bothering to write a disclaimer… **

**Prologue **

Sherlock was still fuming 20 minutes later as he entered the relatively empty tube carriage, closely followed by John, who, sighing, took a seat. Sherlock flumped down next to him and huffed loudly.

The two had just returned from a rather unsuccessful meeting with a police informant whom one of lestrad's men had deemed trustworthy. It turned out however, that the information the man had to offer could just as well have been found in a tabloid newspaper. Sherlock was not happy, especially after having been kicked out of a cab for shouting and breaking one of the fold-down seats.

John looked around for a while and then picked up an abandoned newspaper from the seat opposite, anticipating a long journey home.

Sherlock settled down to people watch. A pimple strewn youth sat opposite them, headphones in his ears and hood up, heavy-metal fan, smoker, large short- hair dog, overprotective mother. Woman standing in entrance, office-worker, financial problems, two children under five. This was boring. Far end of carriage, three girls about 12 years of age, uniforms, skirts pulled up high, loose ties, obviously from an estate, non-achievers. Other girl sitting by entrance, roughly same age, size 3 ½ feet, reading German book, neat but weathered uniform, angry, or worried? Sherlock couldn't quite place it. Man, aged roughly 37, works on a building site, anxious, bitten nails. The train stops. Office-worker and builder get out. Old lady with expensive gold earrings enters and sits down, eyes pimpled youth suspiciously, clutches handbag. Sherlock starts staring at Size3 ½ girl. Girl stares back. Chav girls start towards other girl. Snatches book. Throws book on floor.

"Wotcha readin shit face?" the other two sniggered at the remark

The girl picks up the book and continues reading.

"Oi I'm talkin to ya"

"Don't waste your vocabulary on me; I know you're saving it for a special day." The girl didn't look up from her book and her voice had taken on a very matter of fact tone. John lowered his newspaper.

It seemed the girl needed some time to comprehend this remark, after a few seconds though she seemed to have gotten her wits together. "Don't get moufy wiv me freak"

Freak, he didn't like that word. Sherlock got up from his seat at the same time as the girl did. She eyed him angrily as if telling him to mind his own business. Then the girl rounded on the group of three. "So, Chantelle how are those ballet lessons going lately? Your posture reveals all. Let me guess, finally reached grade two? Mind, the very thought of you in a pink tutu makes me want to vomit. Alisha, I'm so sorry about your breakup with Ryan. I heard about him cheating on you with Tracy. Oh hang on, weren't the others meant to know about that? Oops sorry about that. I imagine your mates won't be at all happy to hear that you've been lying to them for-what- 3 weeks? And not to forget, Charice. Hey those stains on your shirt collar, is that today's cannelloni? A little embarrassing don't you think? Although I suppose you're mum's a bit preoccupied having affairs and doesn't have the time to teach her daughter the adequate table manners. Are your puny brains really under the impression that you can intimidate me using such feeble means as chav talk? Sorry to disappoint you but you'll have to put a little more work into it. Tell you what, since you three are so used to taking the easy way, why don't you bully someone with the same sad little brain capacity as you. How about a reception student. Second thoughts, even their small, underdeveloped minds will be able to see through the tough girl façade and realize that deep down; the three of you are nothing more than tracksuit-sporting idiots." The girl looked very pleased with herself, until her brain registered the fist flying towards her face. She ducked.

Sherlock, having seen enough came to stand behind the girl, closely followed by John. The train slowed as it pulled into the next station.

"Out," growled John. The three girls fled, leaving the other girl to glower at John and Sherlock.

"There was no need to intervene; I was completely capable of handling the situation."

"Oh yes, we both saw that clearly." Remarked John sarcastically. Sherlock had sat back down, his expression, once again, utterly bored.

The girl got out at the next station.

"Care kid." noted Sherlock.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**

"I don't know Nina, all of a sudden this all seems a little… well, don't you think this is all a bit big for us?"

"What do you mean? We've been planning this for _months_!" the anger was unmistakable in Nina's voice; she looked down at Helen from her great height, not wanting to believe what her ears were telling her to be true. This couldn't be happening, not now, not when they were this close to success. "You can't just chicken out! Think about it, they deserve it! You said so yourself, and now all of a sudden you decide you haven't the stomach."

"I know, I know, but it just doesn't feel right. Now that we have everything in place, it seems so real. I'm going home, tomorrow I'll be fine. I'm just tired." She turned, grabbed her bag and stuffed her hands into her pockets, the scrap of paper reminding her again of what had happened in the park earlier that day. She would have to go back, it seemed like it was the only option.

Nina watched her leave, biting her lip in worry.

Phoebe slipped on her shoes and pushed the door handle down, trying to make the least amount of noise possible. Her efforts were fertile, Nick's head popped around the entrance of the kitchen.

"Where are we off to again today then young lady?" he frowned at her with disapproval. "Didn't I ground you yesterday?"

"Did you? I can't remember anyone saying anything about that. Are you sure it wasn't Michelle you grounded? After all, the whole beetle army inside your pants was her idea."

Nick's frown deepened. He walked to the staircase and yelled for Michelle. When he stomped back to the front door to double phoebe's sentence for fibbing, she was long gone.

Phoebe walked to the tube station and flicked her oyster card at the barrier, getting off the tube at Hammersmith Station. She waited for about 5 minutes at a bus stop next to Frank Banfield Park until Helen came.

"Brilliant, good of you to help."

Helen didn't reply.

"Okay I'll make it quick, how about 3 questions, then I'll leave you alone to get on with your life. Who, where and when."

Helen hesitated, should she tell? She thought about the lives that could be saved and sat up straighter. "The ARA, 25th of February, L-"

Phoebe stared at the woman now lying in front of her, blood oozing out of the small hole in the forehead. "Shit." Knowing it would take the sniper only a couple seconds to line up his rifle and take her out too, she ducked. The shot shattered the glass of the stop, right where here head had been only seconds before.

Phoebe sprinted over the lawn to a group of trees taking cover behind one of them. She cursed loudly. She hadn't found out where the bombing was to take place _and_ she had lost the precious evidence that might have been inside that backpack Helen had been wearing. Now those dopey, good- for- nothing coppers would come and take it with them as evidence, subsequently ruining everything.

A shot whizzed past the suddenly very thin tree trunk and Phoebe snapped back into reality. Sirens started up in the distance. The shooting stopped. Should she risk it? By now the sniper would be hastily packing their stuff and scarpering. If she hurried, she might just be able to reach the bag and run before the cars turned up.

Phoebe had just reached the backpack when the first car rounded the corner. Grabbing the straps and swinging the bag roughly over her shoulder, she sprinted, vaulting a fence onto the green, nearly tripping over a ´Do not walk on the grass´ sign.

She couldn't go straight back to the tube station. That would make tracking her down much too easy. The other side of the lawn came closer and closer. She climbed the other fence and looked back to find two coppers close behind her. She wouldn't be able to outrun them so much was certain. But outwitting them was still an option. Phoebe smiled to herself as an idea sprang into her mind. True, it was unbelievably stupid, not to mention the involvement of a lot of improvisation, but it would have to do. She changed direction abruptly and ran towards Hammersmith Bridge. The police men behind her were shouting at her to stop but Phoebe jumped anyway.

When Phoebe pulled herself onto shore 10 minutes later, the idea didn't seem quite as great as it had before. She was cold, wet and smelled of- well she didn't really want to think about it. Besides, how was she going to explain the state of her shoes to Nick? She really hoped the backpack was as water-proof as it had looked

Sherlock rolled of the sofa and went to join John and Lestrad downstairs in the hall.

"There's been a murder, Hammersmith."

"Is it worth my time?"

"I hope so; it's certainly under odd circumstances."

"Come on John."

"Sherlock, you're in your dressing gown"

Sherlock ignored the remark and called a cab, refusing to ride with Lestrad's car and making him text the address as a result.

20 minutes later John and Sherlock stood before the body of a woman.

"Mid 20's, recently started biting her nails, left- handed, vegan, why am I here?"

"Have you ever heard of an organisation called ARA?" replied Lestrad.

"Animal Rights Activists, exceptionally creative name if you ask me. I suppose you already know about the rumours. They're threatening to blow something up if the government doesn't close down Huntington Life Science. The question is what does she have to do with this? She was part of ARA judging by the bracelet she's wearing." Sherlock snatched a pair of gloves that one of the idle officers was holding and felt around in the woman's pockets. He retrieved a scrap of paper and smiled.

"What does it say?" John asked

"It's this address and a date. Someone was obviously here to meet her."

At that moment, two panting policemen came up behind them.

"Sir," one of them gasped trying to catch his breath. "The suspect got away Sir."

"Who got away?" Sherlock looked up from the body again.

Leatrad answered "Someone was seen running away from the body with the victims backpack."

"The murderer?" John questioned.

"No, it was a girl, about 5 feet"

"So whoever she was came here to meet the dead woman. The woman obviously spilled some information which is why not only she but also the girl was shot at. The backpack was taken because the woman, judging by her facial expression, was in midsentence and the girl was hopping to find more information inside." Sherlock turned to the two officers who seemed to now have recovered. "Where exactly did you lose her?"

"She jumped off Huntington Bridge."

"Look through the CCTV footage along the Thames and tell me when you know where she lives."

Nick had stayed up waiting for Phoebe's return and was shocked to see her, soaked through and completely shattered, standing on the doormat at half past 12at night.

He sighed as he made here a cup of tea while she showered and changed into her pyjamas.

"I'd very much like an explanation for this, but I presume you'll just say you fell in the Thames or something."

Phoebe smirked at this.

"Do you realize that if this carries on, we'll have to send you to a closed home somewhere in the middle of nowhere?"

Phoebe sighed "I know Nick; sometimes I just get so caught up in stuff."

"I want to know what happened"

"I fell into the Thames."

The next day at school was hell. Nick hadn't let her stay home telling her that it was her own bloody fault she was tired. She nodded of it Chemistry and was rewarded by Mr Phelps making her learn the periodic table of by heart. When she recited it to him, instead of taking back the punishment, he told he to ´find out about and explain the process of oxidisation 'in the form of a two page essay. It was very hard for Phoebe to refrain from informing the teacher, that she knew perfectly well what the process of oxidisation was.

Mr Phelps' rambling was interrupted by a sharp knocking on the door. One of the school secretaries stood outside. "Phoebe Farball, the Headmaster would like to see you."

Phoebe gathered up her stuff and followed the secretary down the hall. She wondered what it was this time. Had they finally found out that she was the one stealing chemicals from the shockingly unprotected storage room?

Two stern- looking coppers stood in the office. She instantly knew what this was about. Maybe she'd bitten of a little more than she could chew when she took the backpack the night before.

"You're going to have to come with us." Said the smaller of the two.

"Where to?"

"New Scotland Yard. You're in a lot of trouble young lady."

Okay, maybe she had bitten off a lot more than she could chew.


End file.
